Italian Capitals
by ParisisIndeedSplendid
Summary: Italy is acting strangely. Germany and Japan believe that they understand the problem; it is the birth of Italy's capital cities. Contains mpreg. Rated T for adult language and an eventual birth scene, but no sex! Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or its characters! EDIT: Noncanon representation of national capitals and states & noncanon mpreg. Also, some PruCan and Spamano.
1. So It Begins

It began like any other day – the coffee was on, the breakfast was made, and two characters were still in bed.

Ludwig – otherwise known as the personification of Germany – had risen at an ungodly hour to begin his personal training. Call it a mental preparation, if you will, for the day's events. He always made sure to put on the coffee for himself and his charges, it didn't feel right to call them 'friends'. Japan and Italy may live in his house and train with him, but that didn't have anything to do with a relationship. It was only a national alliance…

Ludwig sighed as he looked up at the clock; five o'clock. It was time to wake up Italy and Japan. Or – he sighed again – try to.

Making his way to Japan's door, he gently and quietly knocked. He knew that Japan liked his privacy, after all. "Japan, it's time to begin training." Hearing a stirring from within and a yawn, Germany was satisfied and continued on his way.

Stopping at Feliciano's open door, Germany rapped sharply on the door frame. "Italy, it's time to get up for training." No response from the clearly occupied bed.

Germany walked quietly to the sleeping figure. "I once killed a man with a pair of chopsticks and my bare hands." Italy shot up immediately. "I'm awake!"

With an almost imperceptible smirk, Germany turned and began to walk out of the room. "Ve…Germany?" Germany did not really stop as he turned to respond, "You _are_ training with Japan and I today and that is final." "B-but, Germany…" "No buts. That is my last vord on the subject." "Germany, I-"

Suddenly, Italy was out of his bed. He dashed past a bewildered Germany and ran into the bathroom down the hall. ' _Vhat on Earth?'_ He looked across the hall at an equally surprised Japan. "Is Itary-San alright?" They both received their answer from the loud vomiting a few doors down.

Germany sprinted to the door and stopped outside. "Italy? Are you alright in there?" There was no answer but a murmured "ve". Opening the door, he braced himself for the stench.

"Ve…Doitsu, my tummy hurts." Germany didn't respond as he wet a rag and gave it to the shorter nation. "Here, you may need this." Italy took the washcloth with shaking hands. As he rubbed his face, Germany thought for a moment. "Perhaps you should take the day off. You seem sick."

Italy seemed shocked as he glanced at the serious nation. "B-but I wanted to train with you and Japan-""Please, you and I both know zhat you didn't vant to train. Besides, you are sick. I will talk with Japan about what medicines you should take and you will rest today. Zhat's an order." Not having the strength to argue, Italy merely groaned and leaned on the toilet.

* * *

A few hours later, the two healthy nations returned to the house for a lunch break. "Should we make Itary-san a bowl of soup? Perhaps it will help settre his stomach." "Hm, I agree. Zhat sounds like a good idea." Opening the kitchen door, they were met with a surprise. "Itary-san? What are you doing out of bed?"

Italy stood over a hot pot on the stove top, eyes lit with joy. "Ve~ I was-a feeling better! And I was hungry, so I made lunch for us all!"

"Oh, well zhat was nice. But aren't you still feeling a bit ill? You were throwing up this morning…" "Oh, I'm fine now! Why don't you guys sit down and I'll get us some stew!"

Japan and Germany froze. "Did- did you say 'stew'? I thought that it would be the usual pasta..." "Yeah! I thought up a new recipe while I was laying down this morning! It's chopped pork, elbow noodles, cheese, and roma tomatoes!" Suddenly, Italy's eyes turned into pools of tears. "Roma tomatoes are n-named after Grandpa Rome…" He sniffled, then started bawling. " **I miss Grandpa Rome**!" he wailed.

Japan and Germany glanced at each other, sharing a bewildered and shocked expression. "Uh, zhat's ok Italy. Vhy don't we just eat some _stew_ and take a rest? Zhat always seems to help you feel better-"

"You don't care! I miss Grandpa Rome and you don't care!" He lifted hurt doe eyes to gaze upon the two offenders. "I-I haven't s-seen him in so long! I m-miss h-him!" He hiccupped and furiously wiped his eyes of tears.

"Itary-san, we care that you miss him. We know that he was your Grandpa, but do you think that he would rike to see you crying about him?"

Italy's eyes seemed to instantly empty of tears as he smiled softly. "No. But I know what he _would_ like to see me do, though!" He lept over and hugged the two, excited grin returning to his face. "I love-a you two! I'm so glad that we're friends!"

Japan squirmed uncomfortably as Germany simply stared at the pasta nation in shock. "I-Italy, are you feeling alright?"

Italy instantly let go of the two and raised angry eyes to them. "I can't believe you! You think-a that I'm-a sick since I threw up! Now you think that something's wrong because I hugged you!" He whipped around and grabbed the pot off of the stove. "Well, I'll just eat all of my stew by myself and _you two_ won't get any!" He stomped away from the confounded pair and slammed the door to his bedroom.

"Werr, that was odd." "Yeah, and I'm still hungry." One thought was shared between the two, _what was wrong with Italy?_

 _A.N. So, here's my first story! Please review! Constructional criticism is welcome, but please no flames! Thank you! :)_


	2. Strange Food at Strange Hours

AN: _Oh my gosh, I can't believe how many views this story already has! Thanks for reading and favoriting the story, guys! As of 10:25 p.m. on the day that I published this, there have already been 37 views and three favorites! Thanks everyone! I won't normally do this, but I'm going to publish another chapter now. It's soon, I know, but it's happening anyway! Well, I'll shut up now, enjoy!_

Italy woke up the next day much earlier than what he would normally. As in, three in the morning early. The Italian personification was used to getting up – at the last minute – at eight-thirty. So why was he up?

 _Ve, I'm tired. I want to sleep._ Yet no matter what position he tried, he simply could _not_ get comfortable. _Ve, now I'm awake._ Sitting up with a quiet groan, he rubbed his eyes.

As he sat there, he had a familiar feeling in his stomach. _No please. I don't want to be sick…_

Too late. He threw the blankets off of himself as he ran to the bathroom for the seemingly fifth time that night. Luckily, being sapped of energy and filled with confusion, Germany and Japan had seemingly stayed asleep each time he dashed down the hall.

As he emptied his stomach of its contents yet again, Italy couldn't help but wonder to himself. _What if something is really wrong? I don't want to be sick! Or worse, what if Italy makes me go to the doctor?_

He finished vomiting, then flushed. As the rubbish disappeared, he sank down to lean against the side of the bathtub. _They can't know that I'm sick. I have to pretend that I'm fine or else they'll make me go!_

He recovered as he sat, but the worry continued to eat at him. Finally, after a while of self-torture, a low growl filled the room. _I'm hungry… Oh, I know what I want!_ He excitedly rushed to the kitchen, temporarily forgetting his distress.

Germany woke up at four-thirty sharp, ready to go about his personal preparation before waking the others. As he sat up, however, a not-entirely unpleasant odor hit him. _Vhat the hell?_ He quickly and quietly got up to investigate.

As he made his way to the kitchen, he could hear soft and familiar humming. _Italy? Vhat is he doing up this early?_ Peering along the wall so as not to scare the Italian, he watched him continue.

Italy was boiling some sort of meat in a pot as he chopped celery on a nearby plate. As he reached for a tomato with one hand, he poured a generous amount of wine into the pot. Germany watched, fascinated, as he seemed to dance around the room. He expertly grabbed a vegetable here, a seasoning here, a fruit there. He knew the kitchen like Germany knew battle tactics, always conscious of each ingredients placement and timing of proper use.

Almost as soon as Germany was getting comfortable where he was, Italy realized that he was being watched. "Germany? What are you doing?" The Germanic nation straightened and awkwardly scratched his neck. "I vas going to ask you the same thing. I smelled something cooking from my room, and I vanted to know what it vas."

"Ve~I'm not sure yet! I have some meat boiling here, then I'm going to add some vegetables and some seasonings! If you want any, you can-a have some! It has wine in it, just a warning!" Germany chuckled softly. "Sure, Italy. I'll try it."

An hour later, the two found themselves eating a new Italian dish. "Zhis is pretty good, Italy. I zhink you should make it an official dish." "Ve, I'm glad you like it Germany! I still don't know what to call it, though." Germany took another spoonful of the stew. "You will, I'm sure. So, vhy did you start cooking so early?"

 _Oh no, he's going to know that I'm-a sick-a! I have to say anything but that I threw up. Anything but that!_ "Ve, I had trouble sleeping. And then I…had a dream about it so I decided to cook it!" Italy rushed through his lie, face turning a slight pink as he tried to act innocent. "Oh, vhy vere you having trouble sleeping?" Italy's face turned a darker shade of magenta as he stammered. "I-I dunno! I was just-a trying to-a sleep and I couldn't! M-maybe it was my pillow!" Germany's intimidating gaze caused him to keep stuttering excuses.

"M-maybe I n-need to-a get a new pillow! Or a new mattress! Maybe a n-new bed! Yeah! I th-think-a that's it! A new bed! That's all, nothing more! Hahahahaha…" "Hm, are you sure zhat it had nothing to do with the fact that you vere up vomiting all night?"

Italy immediately froze in terror. "N-No…" Germany sternly glanced up at the smaller nation, eyes betraying the worry inside. "Yes. Is everything in your country alright? And don't lie about that, or I can easily find out the hard way." _I hate to threaten him, but he won't tell me any other vay._ Under the tall country's gaze, Feliciano physically crumpled and burst into tears,

"I don't kn-know what's-a wrong! I k-keep throwing up and I'm super hungry and I like different food and I-I-I can't even eat pasta!"

Germany froze. "You can't eat pasta?" "Ve, Ludwig! I throw up more when I eat it! I _love_ pasta! A-and the government is fine, the econ-nomy is f-fine and f-fratello is just-a more grumpy a-and- "Italy threw himself at Ludwig across the table. "What's wrong with me, Ludwig?!"

As Italy continued to sob into his lap, Germany awkwardly patted his back. "I-it's ok, Feli. Ve'll talk with Japan when he gets up. Ve'll take the day off so that ve can find out vhat's wrong, and if it comes to it- "Italy nervously lifted his head, praying that he wouldn't hear what he knew he would hear. "Ve'll all go to the hospital together."

Feliciano frantically shook his head and wailed. "No! No, please don't take me! I-I can get better! Maybe I just have a cold- "Germany lifted his hand and placed it on the small nation's head firmly. "Nein. If ve cannot find out vhat it is by talking amongst ourselves and other nations, ve _vill_ go to zhe doctor. Am I clear?" The sternness in his face left no room for argument, so Italy quietly nodded. "Ve…" "Now, let's go vake Japan and start looking."

"I'm already awake, Germany-san." Turning, Germany and Italy saw Japan standing in the doorway. His usually stoic expression was pale and slightly nervous as he crossed his arms. "Ah, Japan. How long have you been standing zhere?" "…rong enough. I think I know what is wrong with Itary-san, but we should call America and Engrand to be sure…"

"Ve! Vhat is it? Am I going to die? I'm going to die, aren't I?!" Japan ducked his head as he rubbed his elbows, as though the room had grown colder. "No, Itary-san. You won't die. In fact, this is good if you think about it…

"You said that you were craving certain foods, throwing up in the morning, and eating more than usual? Are you more tired?" "Yes, and I couldn't get comfy last night!" "Werr, and you were er, grum yesterday." Japan nodded slowly as Germany and Italy watched anxiously.

"Vell, vhat is it?!" "Think, Germany: moody, tired, cravings, trouble sleeping…" After a moment, Germany paled.

"What is it? What's-a wrong?!" Germany cleared his throat and turned to the scared nation. "Italy, do you know how countries are born?" "Ve, most of us just appear. Except America and Canada, England and France had them. That was _weird_! I'm glad I didn't have to do that! But at least they got little bambinos!"

Japan and Germany shared a look. "…Werr, do you know where capitars come from?" "C-capitals? Like a nation's big city?" "Exactly." "N-no, not really. Don't they appear too? Because I've been waiting and waiting to see my capital, but there's nothing anywhere! I know that I have a city, but I haven't found anything yet!"

"Vell, ve zhink zhat you'll meet your capital soon enough." Italy instantly cheered up. "Really? When? Where is it?!" "Here, Itary-san." "W-what do you mean?" "Italia, you're pregnant with your capital."

AN _Oh shoot, it finally was announced! Review and constructive criticism is welcome! BTW, the meal that Feli was cooking is called_ _Coda alla vaccinara. It sounds good, except for the meat they use, ox tail… Blegh._


	3. Phone Calls and Tears

AN _There's a bad thing with being new to a social media site or any account-based site like fanfiction or Facebook – you have no idea what you're doing. SO, that being said, please ignore my review of my own story. I tried deleting and re-uploading the chapters and everything I could find, but nothing I've tried has worked. Could someone please help me out a bit with learning the ropes? PM me if you can!_

 _Anyway, onwards and upwards!_

At first, Italy simply stared back and forth between the two, not sure what to think at the moment. Then, he chuckled softly. As he continued, the chuckles turned into full-fledged laughter. He sank his head back into Germany's lap as he laughed, his back shaking with each breath and ensuing laugh. "V-ve, y-you two th-think I'm p- **pregnant**?!" Japan nodded nervously. "Yes- "More laughter ensued.

"I-I have to c-call my fratello! H-he's going to-to die!" Still laughing, he made his way to the telephone in the hall.

Germany and Japan shared a look. "How rong do you think it wirr be untir he rearizes it?" Germany sighed and leaned back into the chair he was sitting in. "Not long, I hope…"

In the hallway, Feliciano had calmed just enough to dial properly and was now holding the phone to his ear. ' _Silly Germany and Japan, thinking I'm-a sick because I'm pregnant!_ ' He smirked and nearly started another laughing fit until he heard the line pick up on the other end of the phone. "Sí, quien es?"

"Big brother Spain! I have to tell you a really funny joke!" There was hesitation on the other line. "Ah- go ahead Feli." Italy did not notice the nation's tone as he continued to talk.

"So I'm sick, ok? And Germany and Japan are trying to find out what's wrong. And we were thinking about everything that has happened: I'm throwing up and eating weird stuff and acting funny. _Anyway_ so guess what they thought it was! Guess!" Spain was silent. "They think I'm pregnant! Isn't that funny?" No response. Italy stopped laughing when he heard nothing. "Spain, don't you think that's funny? Spain?"

For a while, they were both awkwardly quiet. Then from the other end of the phone: "Oi, bastardo! Is that my fratello? Give me the phone you idiota! I ought to- ""F-fratello?"

Romano took the phone from the immobile Spain, his eyes frozen wide open in shock and terror. "Idiota…" he muttered one last time before putting the phone on his ear.

"So fratello, why are you calling so fucking early in the morning? I was sleeping, you know! This better be important!" Feliciano had frozen, and seemed unable to function fully. "Romano. Germany and Japan said I'm pregnant." Romano laughed bitterly. "That's not possible. You _can't_ be pregnant, those idiot bastards…"

Feliciano felt a wave of relief wash over him. "I-I was worried! Because I'm throwing up and eating weird things! Fratello, I can't even eat pasta! What do you think is wrong?" "Well you can't be fucking pregnant. Only one of us can have a capital. Besides, one of us is already fucking pregnant!" "…me?" "No, I'm fucking pregnant and it's all that stupid bastard Spain's fault!"

"Fratello, th-that's great!" "Don't give me that! This is horrible! I can't eat pizza or tomatoes because they make me throw up! And I'm-I-m" Feliciano could hear sniffling from the other end of the phone.

"Oh, Fratello. Don't cry! If you're sad, I'm sad!" "*sniff sniff* B-But I can't eat my favorite foods and I'm always th-throwing up and all I want to fucking eat is that weird food that Grandpa R-Rome made us eat! And-and…" "Fratello, can I visit?" "…fine. Not like I care or anyth-thing though."

"Great! Let me talk to big brother Spain to check!" Romano shoved the phone into a slightly recovered Spain's hand. "Here. My idiot fratello wants to talk to you." He stalked away, still sniffing and hastily wiping his eyes. "S- Sí?" "Ve! Can I come and visit big brother?" "Talk with Germany, but it's fine with me." "Si! GERMANY! I'm going to visit mi fratello and big brother Spain! I'll be back later!" Italy practically threw the phone back into its cradle and, with a short series of footsteps, he was gone.

Japan and Germany shook their heads in disbelief. "I do not think I wirr ever understand Itary-San's excitabirity." "Neither will I. Do you think he will believe us eventually?" "I hope so. Maybe talking with his brother wirr help."

Two hours later, and Feliciano still had not shut up. "..and I said 'that doesn't make any sense' and Germany and Japan just looked at me and I don't think it's possible men can't have babies!" He paused briefly. "And it just doesn't make sense for fratello and me to both be having capitals because there's only one capital of Italy!" Pause. "And another thing, I REALLY want some meatballs, do you have any? Maybe some garlic? Oh! And some sushi! Japan makes really good sushi! I want some sushi too! Sushi with meatballs and garlic and – and…"

Italy finally stopped for longer than two seconds. He glanced up at Spain, who had remained oddly silent during the one-sided conversation. "Spain? Are you ok?" Spain, who had been staring off into the distance, shook his head quickly. "Feli? Lo siento, I was thinking about Romano."

Italy's usually care-free air disappeared momentarily. "Fratello? Isn't he happy to have un bambino?" The conquistador sighed. "That's just it, Feli, he isn't happy. I think he's scared."

Feliciano frowned, deep in thought for a moment. "Maybe I should talk to him. Maybe I can help." Taking the familiar staircase two at a time, Feliciano found himself in front of Romano's room.

"Romano? It's me, Feliciano. Can I come in?" "GO AWAY!" Feliciano heard the sound of something fragile hitting the other side of the door. "…please, fratello? I just want to help you feel better." "No! No one can make me feel better! Not pizza! Not tomatoes! Nothing!"

Feliciano gasped. "Romano, you love tomatoes! Come on, let me go grab some and we can eat them together. Just you and me!" Silence. "Romano, please. What can I do to make you feel better?" "…leave. Leave me alone. I don't want to see anyone, especially you!"

That did it. There was a pregnant pause – pun unintended – as Romano's words fully hit his younger brother. "…Feli-"  
"WAAAAHHHHH!" Feliciano sobbed and sank to the ground. "You d-don't l-love me an-y m-ore!" Feliciano hiccupped and gulped.

Romano's disheveled and teary-eyed face appeared within the sliver of the cracked doorway. "I d-don't hate you, you idiota." Feliciano stopped crying immediately as his eyes slowly lit up in delight. "I love you too, fratello mio!" He leapt up excitedly and peered into the darkened room. "Can I come in?" The older brother hesitated. "Don't laugh at me." He turned sharply and motioned to Feliciano to shut the door.

The first thing he noticed was the darkness and gloom. Then, as his eyes adjusted, he took in the room's appearance. "Fratello, what happened in here?" Boxes were opened and strewn everywhere; various pictures and items littered the ground. A particularly large box with an undistinguishable label rested on the bed. "I-I was…cleaning."

Feliciano made his way to the mysterious box - squinting to try to read the title. "F-Feliciano and…Romanito? Fratello, what's in here?" "What do you think? Our baby stuff." Seemingly reminded, Romano sniffled slightly. _Oh, crapola. I hope he didn't hear that!_ "Romano, are you crying?" _Cazzo._ "No. I-I have something in my eye, you idiota." "Fratello, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone you cried. What is it?"

Romano remained tight-lipped, struggling not to cry any worse than he already was. Unfortunately for him, he lost the battle for control. "I DON'T WANT TO HAVE A BAMBINO!" Wailing and sobbing, he threw himself onto the bed beside the previously opened box.

"Oh, Romano…" Feliciano cooed and rubbed his brother's back, eyes threatening to become moist again. "But imagine all the fun things you can do with your bambino! You can play and teach him everything you know. You can teach him to cook and how to eat tomatoes the right way. And – if it's a girl – you can teach her how to say things to get bad boys to leave her alone!"

Romano sniffed loudly and turned to face Feliciano. "But, I don't think I'd be good at any of that. I don't even like kids. What would I do to my own if I don't even want it?" Feliciano sighed. "But Romano, you don't know that! You'll probably like your bambino, it's going to be a part of you! Er, us." "I just don't get why I have to have our capital. Why couldn't it have been you? You've always loved kids."

He shrugged. "I don't know. Plus, Germany and Japan think I'm having a bambino." He suddenly froze. "You're actually having a baby." "… Si, fratello stupido." Feliciano's eyes widened. "…Nations can have babies, even if they're boys." "…Yes?"

Feliciano laid down beside his brother, whom adopted a confused expression. "What? What?! What happened to you comforting me?! What is it?" "…Germany and Japan were right." "What the hell do you mean?!"

Turning, Feliciano nearly scared Romano with how serious his expression was. "…I think I'm pregnant too."


	4. More Tears and Odd Behaviors

_A.N. Wow, you mean people actually like this story? Yay! So I'll keep writing, then. I'm sick right now, so I had plenty of time to write this chapter!_

 _Guest: Thanks again for the review, and thank you for the help! I don't want to risk messing up this story's layout any more than I already have, but I might take your advice and fix it sometime. I re-read what you typed in a previous review and I see where I misunderstood you. Nonetheless, my writing gears are still kicking with the idea! Also, there will most certainly be some interaction between Romano and Germany. OH boy…_

 _No one has complained thus far, but I'm going to go ahead and start translating some of the language that I use (I'm pretty sure none of you want to know what Romano said in the last chapter, so I'll leave that open for research)._

" _Voy a hacer la comida. Va ser bien" – I'm going to make the food. It's going to be fine._

" _Cierto" – This is another word for 'true' or 'certain'_

 _And now, onwards!_

After Feliciano's rapid disappearance, Spain had begun making a meal for the three personifications. Recalling his earlier request for meatballs and garlic, Spain decided to prepare an Italian dish fit for the most avid of pasta lovers.

Approximately an hour after he had begun to cook, he heard a door slowly creak open upstairs. Peering into the hallway, he could see two pairs of feet padding their way down. "Romano? Feli? I'm making pasta with meatballs! Do you want to help with the sauce?" Spain turned to face the two Italians.

Both had tearstained cheeks and were clutching pictures in their hands. Feliciano was the first to speak"…No. We're good. Y-you make it." They shuffled off into the sitting room nearby, neither speaking above a whisper.

Spain froze as he followed the two with astonished eyes. "You don't want to help? But you two love to cook!" The brothers did not answer as they simultaneously flopped onto the couch, eyes drawn to the photographs in their hands. "A-are you two sure? Cierto?" Feliciano raised his head to show an alarming amount of anger.

"What-a do you think? We don't want to cook! We're busy at the moment and we don't-a need you interrupting and getting in the way!" Face red, the younger brother rubbed his face on his elder's shoulder. Romano, instead of getting angry, simply put a free arm around him.

Spain's mouth flopped open and shut like a fish for a moment. "R-Romano?" he stuttered. Romano slowly lifted sad eyes and did not even bother to disguise his tears. "We're-a busy." He sniffled, yet smiled softly as Feliciano pointed to a photograph.

"Fratello, do you remember this day?" Romano's smile widened as his brother showed him the picture. In it, two much younger Vargas brothers swam in a river, each holding a small shell. In the present, the two snuggled closely together on the furniture, arms reaching for each other seemingly out of habit.

Spain, greatly confused (and frankly, scared for his life), backed away slowly into the kitchen. "I'm going to finish lunch for us. Si, voy a hacer la comida. Va a ser bien." Fleeing the scene, Spain grabbed his phone and dialed a number as he frantically stirred the boiling noodles.

"Ja? Germany speaking." "Oh, gracias, Dio! It's Spain. I have Romano and Feliciano here, but they aren't acting themselves! Feli yelled at me, and Romano's crying and he's _quiet_. It's freaking me out! They don't even want to cook pasta sauce!"

In his home, Germany rubbed his head. "…ja, ve believe zhat Feli is pregnant with his capital." "But _Romano's_ pregnant! They can't both be, can they?" A sigh. "Well, zhere shouldn't be two Italy's, but zhere are. Maybe it has something to do with their regions? I'm not sure myself." The only response that he received was loud breathing. "…Are you zhat scared of zhem right now?" "No! I just don't know what to do! They're just looking at pictures and crying and I don't know what to do! Feli is so mad at me, and Romano is crying! The Mayans were right, the world is ending!"

Germany decided that it would be the best time to beginning counting silently from one to ten as Spain continued to hyperventilate. Reaching ten, the other nation had not stopped explaining his situation to the German. "-and it isn't right! When I had my capital, I just wanted to eat all of the Spanish food I could get my hands on! I made-""Spain. Do you vant me to come over to help?" It was not a question. "…Si." "I'll be over in an hour."

While Romano had been silent in the company of Feliciano and Spain, he grew outraged at the sight of a certain nation. "What-a is the stupid potato bastard doing here?! Spain! Get this idiota out of here! Vaffanculo!" "Hello, Romano." "Don't 'hello Romano' me! I hate-a you!" "Germany!" Feliciano dashed off of the couch as fast as he could to hug Germany's waist. "I missed you!" Germany gingerly tucked his hands underneath the Italian's arms. "Not so tight, Italia. Don't hurt your…stomach."

Italy's arms slacked slightly as he looked down at the ground. "Oh, yeah." Feliciano tip-toed back to the couch and sat beside his brother, wrapping his arms around him. Romano made no move to shift away from the touch. If anything, he leaned into the attention slightly as he glared at the Germanic nation. "What-a are you staring at?" Germany simply rolled his eyes and marched into the kitchen, where a frantic Spain was finishing the meal.

"Oh Germany, thank goodness you're here! Do you see what I mean? It's so weird!" "…Jah, it's definitely different zhan normal. Except for Romano's swearing."

If Spain was unnerved by the two's behavior before, he nearly had an aneurism seeing their actions at lunch. "Romano, you haven't touched your pasta." Romano stirred the plate's contents with his fork, never lifting the food to his mouth. "And Feliciano, you haven't said anything in so long." Feliciano, like his brother, was silent as he twirled and un-twirled spaghetti on and off his fork.

"Aren't you two happy? You're going to have children." "Si! Little niños to love and hold!" Romano started sobbing openly while Feliciano's grip tightened on his silverware. "I-I'm scared to have a-a b-bambi-no!" wailed the older of the two. Feliciano shook his head as tears fell silently from his face. "He'll leave me, just like Grandpa Rome and Holy Rome." Now both Italians wept and hugged each other.

Germany, being a man of few words, shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Uh...perhaps we should talk with someone." "I'm not going to do any ideas that the bastard comes up with." Romano glared at the taller man, eyes attaining their usual glare. "Romano," began Feliciano "I think we should see. Let's at least try talking with someone." "…Fine. L-like who, bastardo?" Romano sniffed and pouted. Spain and Germany thought for a moment. "…England? He's had kids before. He knows what it's like." "NO!" exclaimed the brothers.

"Perhaps America? Or even, what's-his-name…" "Canada?" "Jah, America has the states and Canada has provinces. I don't even know how many kids zhey have by now. Surely zhey know what it's like to be scared with zhis sort of thing."

The brothers shared a look that spoke an entire conversation between the two. After a moment, they turned back to Germany and Spain. "…Fine." Romano spoke for them this time. "We'll talk with America and Can-Can."


	5. Congratulations!

_AN: Thanks for the review, paulakawaii! See, I took three years of Spanish, but it's been two years or so since I had any real practice with it. Thank you for the correction! I will keep it in mind (and try to be more careful with my Spanish in the future)! Also, I'm glad that you like it!_

 _If anyone speaks any of the languages that I use in this story, I would appreciate it if you told me if I am translating correctly. I'm always willing to learn something new, and I want to have these languages written correctly! Thanks!  
_

_As I've said before, onwards and upwards!_

It did not take long to make the phone call. All it took was an overeager Spaniard yelling excitedly over the phone for America to accept the idea (actually, America practically insisted that the Italian brothers visit once he got excited– which did not take long).

While Spain called America, Germany contacted Canada (whom he managed to find the number for by asking his brother. Who knew why Prussia had been calling the quiet nation lately?) It did not take long for Canada to agree as well. Being the nice nation that he was, he simply could not refuse to try and cheer up the country of Italy. ("Oh, by the way, tell Gilbert I said 'hi'." "…Vhat?" Canada hung up with a girlish giggle.)

About an hour after the calls were made, Spain and Germany were trying to wrestle the two Italians out the door. It seemed as though hearing the conversations had changed their minds for them.

"I'm not going, bastard! I'm not! I'm not!" "But Romano, it will be fun! America always has plenty of food, and maybe he'll let you have some spaghetti while we're there!" "Idiot! That isn't real spaghetti! He always over-boils the noodles!"

"Feliciano, please come down from zhere." "No! I changed my mind! I'm not going anymore!" "But I thought zhat you vanted to go?" "I did! But now I…don't." "Zhat doesn't just happen." "Well, it happens to me!"

Eventually, the two Italians found themselves persuaded onto an airplane with promises of _real_ spaghetti al dente and genuine airplane food – "as long as I get real tomatoes, you jerk bastard".

A few hours before dinner, the four stood outside of America's house. Feliciano and Romano finished the last of the tomatoes as they exchanged nervous glances. Once the fruit was gone, they shifted awkwardly from foot-to-foot.

"Is either of you two going to knock, or do I have to do it for you?" Romano whipped his head around. "Oi! We're gonna knock, vaffanculo!" Even as he said that, his arm slowly lifted to hover over the door bell. Yet, his hand never moved to touch the button.

Just as he was about to put his arm back down, the door whipped open of its own accord. "DUDES ! You're finally here!" America rushed forward to crush the two small personifications in a death grip, 'heroic' laugh never ceasing. "Seriously, I was wondering when you were gonna get here! I've had the food and drinks ready for _hours_!" Neither Italian answered as their faces turned blue.

"America, you'll hurt los bebés!" America's face demonstrated true regret as he released the two. "Oh, sorry guys! I completely forgot why you guys were even here in the first place!" Romano and Feliciano did not answer as they gasped for air. "Come on in! My brother's already here, he'll be just a second!"

"America, your house is so big!" Feliciano gasped as he observed the expanse of the fellow nation's home. "Thanks, dude! You know what they say, 'go big or go home'!" "I'm pretty sure you're the only one that says that…" muttered Romano as he shuffled beside his brother. "CANADA! Bro, they're here!" America, remembering his manners, turned to the four. "Have a seat anywhere; I'll be right back with some snacks. I hope you guys like linguini, I made it especially for you guys!"

Once he had disappeared, Romano's scowl deepened. "Overcooked food, again." "It's not so bad, Romano. At least he tried to make us something that we'd like!" Germany and Spain glanced at each other. "Is this a good idea?" "Jah, it's the only option zhat ve have. Besides, Feliciano likes America and Romano likes Canada."

A loud crash from the kitchen startled the group from their thoughts. "Matt, careful! You almost hit Chris!" "Chris?" echoed Romano. Peering around the corner, he received his answer.

America was balancing five pots in his gargantuan arms, one held just over an infant in a high chair, sleeping miraculously. "He needs his awesome little head!" "S-sorry, Al! It just slipped from my hand, I swear!" "Aw, I know, bro! You would have caught it! If I weren't faster, you would have done anything to save my little guy!" As Alfred hugged his brother, Matthew blushed.

"Why the heck do you have a kid, you American idiot?!" As the two North Americans jumped in surprise, the infant in question began to wail. "Aw, I just got him to fall asleep..." groaned Alfred.

The tall nation knelt down to pick up the child, eyes adopting a more tender emotion. "Little buddy, it's ok. C'mere, Chrissy." The baby stopped crying as soon as he saw Alfred, starting to giggle instead.

"Romano, meet Arizona. Arizona – Chris – Romano." Cuddling the baby to his face, Chris gurgled. "It's actually kinda cool that you two are visiting! Arizona is my state that has some of the most of my Italian population, isn't that right, Chrissy?" Before Romano could answer, his brother came into the kitchen as well.

"Aw, what an adorable little bambino! Can I hold him? Can I, huh?" "'Course, dude! Let's go sit down though, I think Romano needs to." Sure enough, Romano's face had paled considerably.

Sitting in the living room, Germany was seated awkwardly a distance away from the rest of the nations. Spain, America, and Feliciano were cooing over Arizona, while Canada and Romano sat together on the couch watching.

"He's-a so cute! How'd you get him?" America chuckled. "Well, he's one of my states. I have a kid for every one of my states. And I love every single one of them! Don't I, little Chrissy?" "Wait." Romano spoke up. "You have a kid for _every_ state? You had every single one?!"

America snickered. "Well, some of them are adopted. Like, I found them or someone else did and I took them in. Most of them are mine, though. Well, they're all _mine_. I was pregnant with most of them, how about that? Oh! I also have one for my little capital, Washington D.C.!

"Canada here is pregnant, anyways." Blushing at the sudden attention, Canada stuttered. "Y-Yeah, w-with Alberta." Romano's head could not have turned faster towards his fellow nation. " _You're pregnant too?!_ " "Y-Yeah. So are you, eh? I guess we'll have our kids at about the same time, then, yeah?"

Romano simply stared at the one nation he thought would remain sane, then turned to face forwards again. Feliciano nervously bit his lip, bouncing Arizona on his knee. "America? Do your states leave when they get older?"

America's eyes grew a little sad. "Sometimes, they do decide to leave. But at the end of the day, we're still a family. They always come back and I'm always there for when they do. Right Canada? Remember the White House?"

Canada's blush deepened. "M-maple, Alfred. You said you forgave me…" "Oh, come on, bro! Of course I forgive you! It's an example! Mattie burned down my White House with England once, but I forgave him after a while. I had to, he's family!" Canada hid his face in his hands, groaning to himself quietly.

"But, your children always come back?" Germany leaned forward slightly, eyes attentive. "Of course! The southern ones did fight with the northern ones for a long while, but they all get along now. Besides, I am the _United States_ of America! Families fight, but we get over it!" Relieved, Feliciano sat back with a small smile.

Romano, however, continued to frown and glare at nothing. "Uh, America?" Spain nervously began with a glance at his ex-charge. "Did you always want your niños?" At this question, America's face grew slightly red. "Uh, to be honest? Not exactly. I was nervous at first-""You mean downright scared." Canada smirked. "Haha, funny bro. Well, I was pretty nervous to start off. I mean, I hadn't ever heard of it happening before. Plus, it was a kid! I'd never handled a kid before, let alone _had_ one of my own. " He paused and smiled again. "When I held my first, Delaware, I realized it was worth it. Then, I had Pennsylvania and New Jersey and I realized just how awesome it was! It's hard to explain. Seriously bros, you're gonna love it."

"I-I was scared when I had my first kids too, eh. I wasn't sure what it was all aboot, but then America let me see his, and I knew I was gonna love it. Your kids are a part of you, a-and you have such a great opportunity." Canada rubbed his stomach slightly, smiling a little.

Romano's face softened almost imperceptibly as he pondered this latest answer, then he quickly stood. "Come on, jerk bastard." "R-Romano? Where are you going?" The Italian's scowl never left. "We're going shopping. My kid isn't sleeping in just any crib. And I won't carry the stupid thing when I buy it. Come on. Now."

Beaming, Spain followed behind the Italian. ' _Thank you'_ , he mouthed to America and Canada as he dashed after Romano. "Coming, Romano!"

"Ve, Germany?" "Yes, Feliciano?" "We're going to need to stay at your place for a while." He chuckled and rubbed his belly, humming loudly. "Oh, you're out of pasta sauce. We'll need to get more on the way back. And we'll need some summer clothes, and fall, and winter, and spring. My little bambino needs some clothes!" Standing suddenly, his eyes widened. "We need to go shopping now! We don't have much time!"

America and Canada laughed. "Dude, you've got about nine months!" "Only nine months! We need to start right away! And Romano's going to get all the best clothes if we don't hurry! Germany! Come help me!"

Rolling his eyes, Germany stood and moved to leave. "Danke, America and- and…" "Canada." "Yes, thank you very much. You two helped so much." "Germany! Let's go! I need help carrying bags!"

As the nations went their separate ways, America suddenly realized something. Throwing open a front window, he saw them just about to leave. "Dudes, I forgot! CONGRATULATIONS!"

 _AN: Thanks for reading! By the way, in case you were wondering, I got Arizona's name from Chris Eric, one of the actors for Captain America. Additionally, I know that I'm not entirely historically accurate with this story. Arizona was the forty-eighth state added to America in 1912, and Alberta was added to Canada in least their close, but I'm not really going for historical accuracy. On top of that, the capital of Italy was declared AGES ago. Well, historical inaccuracy aside, I hope that you enjoyed and leave a review please!_


	6. Maple Candy and Baby Clothes

_I do not own Hetalia or its characters._

After the fateful 'visit', Feliciano went back to Germany's house and Romano went to Spain's. For a while, each group of nations had to learn a new style of living.

"German-eeeeee! I can't find my shoooeeess!" Germany groaned. "You left zhem by zhe door." Feliciano would have normally laughed to himself and simply gotten the shoes. However: "D-don't sigh! I can't-a help it!" For an agonizing moment, his face was flushed and angry. Then ,the steam dissipated. "Y-you don't-a like me anym-more! You think I'm stupid!" With a single sob, Northern Italy ran away from the 'offender'.

Of course, Japan assured Germany that irrational mood swings were normal. Germany did apologize, and was forgiven ten-fold. Of course, the irritability was not as easy to handle.

"Germany! Get-a in here, **now**!" Germany's puzzled face, for once, mirrored his interior emotions. "Feliciano?" Fuming, the small man turned to the muscular bulk. "We're out of-a pasta. **Pasta**. You know how I-a love pasta. You knew we were almost out! How could you?!" "Feli, I-" "You did it! It's-a all your fault that I can't-a have lunch! Now I'll starve and mi bambino will never have pasta. How does that-a make you feel?!"

Surprisingly, Romano and Spain were having a slightly easier time. Slightly.

"Romano! I'm going out to the store! Do you need anything?" A disgruntled Italian lifted his head from a cavern of blankets. "Tomatoes. Don't. Forget. _Tomatoes_." Spain chuckled nervously. "A-anything else?" "…marshmallows."

"Aw, fluffy marshmallows like my little tomato?" "Shut up, bastard. I'm craving them. Go get them before I crawl out of bed and slap you."

The days crawled for the two Italians, as it did for their housing nations. One day, it came time for a world meeting.

"Feliciano, you need to go." "No! You can't-a make me! NO!" Felicianco screamed as Germany carried him into the building. Japan ran alongside and tried to console him. "But Itary-San, why don't you want to go?" "Because I'm-a fat and everyone will see me!" Italy's angry yelling turned into sobs. "But Itary, you aren't fat. You're built really smarr, and you aren't showing the baby much at arr…"

Italy sniffled. "I'm not f-fat?" Germany glanced down at the small man. "No, Italy. You're really small and aren't fat at all. Even when the baby shows, you won't be fat. That will just be the baby. _Now_ , will you go to the meeting willingly?" Italy threw his arms around Germany's neck, "Only if Ludwig carries me to it!" With a sigh, Germany resigned himself to carrying him. Japan kept near the two to sort out anymore emotional turmoil.

Entering the conference room – _late_ – the entire world stared at the trio. "Uh, Germany? You do know you're holding Italy, right?" England stood from his chair. "And the meeting was supposed to start ten minutes ago?" France laughed, " _Ohohoho,_ looks like a little 'lover's spat' is in zhe forgiveness stage, _oui_?"

Carefully setting down Feliciano, Germany took his place at the head of the table. "I apologize for our late entry, we had some small… _issues_ getting here. Now-"" **Fratello!** " Feli bolted to the empty seat beside his brother and hugged him.

"Frattello I missed you! How are you? Are you eating alright? Are you doing ok? Is the baby ok?"

" _ **Baby?!**_ " chorused the nations. Germany and Romano groaned. "I didn't want them to know, you idiota." "Wait, what does the little chap mean by 'baby'?" "Oh! Fratello and me are having our capital! Except we're both pregnant, so we don't know what's going on there! But I'm having a bambino and so is Romano! So we-"

"Feli." "Si, Germany?" "Let me explain, alright?" "Alright!" Germany groaned and observed the questioning group. "Northern and Southern Italy are both pregnant. Although there is only one capital of Italy, they are both definitely pregnant with some capital or major city. Before you all get excited, they will both be on paternity leave in a few months-"

"Aw, this is great, Italy!" Hungary squealed from her chair. "Italy, will you let me take care of the little baby? I took care of you when you were little!" "Sure Hungary! I'd love for you to help with the bambino!" "Aw, that's great! We'll have to have a baby shower!" "Well we should start the meeting-"

"Do either of you two have names picked out?" "I remember when I had my capital…" "You guys should invest in some baby monitors!" "What's it like?" "Can I feel?"

Long story short, the meeting was unproductive as usual. And no one questioned where America was the entire time.

* * *

In Canada, America was put on 'care-taking' duty for his brother. "America, can I have some maple candy?" America sighed. "But bro, you got sick last time you had it." "I-I know. But I need it."

America handed the nation a bowl of Maple Drops. "Mattie, do you have anything set out for the kid?" "Hmm, I still have Toronto's crib. I just need to set it up. I have some clothes, but I don't know where they are right now. I think I have some bottles in the attic-"

"So, you're saying that you're gonna go shopping and have me put together crib for you, am I right?" Canada ducked his head and grinned, "Maybe…" "Y'know, I'm pretty sure Feli's gonna announce his baby at the meeting today." "Mmm, yeah." "Too bad we had to miss it, we can't have you throwing up all over Germany." Matthew lowered his eyes. "S-sorry." "Jeez, Matt! Stop apologizing! If anything, I'm glad to have an excuse to not go! There so _boring_!"

Suddenly, America had an idea. "Hey, does Gilbert know you're pregnant?" Canada blushed and shook his head. "Oh, I'm _so_ gonna call him now!" "A-Al? No! He'll call me a girl! Alfred, no!" Unfortunately, as Alfred stood to get his phone, Matthew felt a familiar rush of nausea.

 _Dang it_ thought Matthew as he vomited maple candies. In between gags, he heard the one-sided conversation between America and Prussia. _Maple. H-E-double hockey sticks…_

* * *

In Spain, Romano was pouting in his bed once again. "Romano? You have to quit hiding; we need to go out shopping!" "Leave me alone. I'm tired after that stupid meeting and I need a nap."

Spain peered around the door frame. "But Romano, the bebé needs clothes." "I don't care right now. I'm napping." "…Ok, then I guess I'll buy some…" The Italian bolted out of bed faster than any pregnant person should be able to. "Like hell I'm letting you dress the bambino in the ugly things you'd call clothes."

The baby store did indeed sell clothes that fit Romano's tastes. However, he was less than pleased with Spain. "You idiota, the bambino will _not_ wear that ugly thing." The taller nation held up a tomato costume. "But _Romano_ -" "No. Now be useful and carry these. Pregnant people aren't supposed to carry heavy things." Tossing a handful of clothing at the man, Romano stalked away.

Spain quickly juggled the clothes into a manageable bundle, and then dashed off to catch up with the short nation. "Romano, I'm coming~" Spain nearly ran into the smaller man. He was standing in the middle of an aisle holding a small pajama set. "Romano?" Peering over his shoulder, Spain smiled.

The set was tomato themed. A small red fruit sat on the pajamas' chest, while the feet were tomatoes themselves. The outfit itself was a pale yellow, and came with a soft green blanket. Tell-tale tears drenched the Italian man's cheeks as he stroked the blanket. "I-it's so small" he whispered.

"I thought you didn't want tomato themed clothes." "I-I never said that, jerk." He sniffed and tossed the outfit to the man. "We're buying this. Carry it." He stalked away to another aisle, furiously wiping at his eyes. "Since you're so good at finding tomato things, you're in charge of looking. _I_ will say if we're buying it or not." Spain walked faster to follow, his grin growing a little wider. "Coming, Romano!"

 _AN: Hey guys! I'm back! I'm glad that some of you guys like the story! I will say that I tried to include a little Spamano in this chapter because 1) I felt I was neglecting it and 2) That one guest said it was their OTP. So I absolutely HAD to!_

 _Romano is happy/more teary while he's pregnant. Feliciano, unfortunately, is grumpy. He also gets the whole range of emotions though._

 _I do not ship AmeCan. I was trying to make a brotherly caring situation. Canada would care for America if he were sick, so I'm sure that America would do the same (excuse the OOC-ness!)_

 _Review please! All flames will be given to England for his magic rituals!_


	7. PruCan and More Tears

It requires a certain amount of determination/stupidity to make a Canadian angry – particularly if that said Canadian is hormonal, pregnant, and already flustered to begin with. So, when Prussia visited North America, Canada was none too compliant.

"Mattie! Gil's here! Why don't cha' get the door for him?" With a glare to rival Russia's, Canada turned to his brother. " _No_." Alfred didn't even bat an eye as he bolted for the door. "I'll get it!" he called. Matthew rolled his eyes as he angrily glared at the carpet. " _Stupid hoser doesn't even acknowledge me half the time, why should he go parading me around like some trophy, eh? And it's-_ " "Prussia! Dude, get in here!"

Matthew's thoughts were quickly interrupted by a collapsible hug falling around him. " 'Ey, birdie! How's zhe awesome little guy doin'? A little birdie told me zhat you're having a little one like Feli and Romano! Let me see it!" Canada rolled his eyes once more, yet blushed slightly. "M-mornin', Gil…" "Come on, Matt! Let zhe awesome one feel already!" Matthew didn't get the chance to protest as Prussia put both hands on his barely-there belly.

"I didn't even know zhat you were having a little one, why didn't you tell me?" "A-aren't you gonna call me a girl an' all that?" Matthew murmured. "Vhat? Nein! Birdie, you need to get to know me better, really!" America smirked from the doorway. "Yeah, Matt, you two _really_ need to get to know each other better." Gilbert missed the wink that Alfred gave his brother. "Shut it, Al."

"So, vhen is zhe kleine due? I need to know how long I have to build an awesome fort!" Canada sighed as he sank into the couch. "No fort, Gil. And she's due in about eight months." "Come on, Mattie! Zhis baby's gonna be awesome like me, I know it! He needs a fort!" Matthew chuckled, "You can build one when she's five, how about that?"

"Deal! But vhe need some stuff now!" He all but yanked Matthew from his seat, dashing for the door. "Ve need to get some clothes and a high chair and a car seat and-" "Gil!" Matthew managed to choke out the other nation's name before barfing on his shirt. "I-I'm sorry. I can't go anywhere today. I'm too sick." Gilbert awkwardly patted Matthew's shoulder before carefully pulling off his shirt. "Zhat's alright, birdie! We can shop online! Let me get my laptop!"

As Prussia left the house for his computer, Canada gazed after the topless man hungrily. America stalked over behind his brother. "He's got a nice backside, _eh_?" "Yeah…I mean no! Al, that's gross! We're just friends, that's it!" America shrugged. "Oh well, at least you weren't thinking about how strong he is… how muscular his chest is… how _thick_ those biceps must be- " "Al! Knock it off!" By this point, Matthew's face rivaled his red sweatshirt.

"Hey, Birdie! I've got my laptop – do you feel alright?" Canada fanned himself and tugged his collar. "I-I'm fine. My hormones are just m-making y- m-me hot." "Yeah, Matt's just a little _hot_ right now. I'll just step out and let you two shop _alone_." With a smirk, America proudly strode away from a blushing Canada and a confused Prussia. "Uh, vhat vas zhat?" "N-nothing. Let's just find some baby stuff." _"I'm gonna kill him later…"_

* * *

"Germany! I need to go shopping and I don't want to go alone!" Germany stifled a groan as he shuffled his paperwork. "Feliciano, I have to finish my paperwork, I told you zhat." " But _Germaaaannnnyyyy_ , mi bambino needs-a clothes and all sorts of things, and I can't carry it all myself!" North Italy rubbed his belly absent-mindedly, a habit that he had acquired over the last couple weeks.

"I'm sorry, Feliciano. If I don't finish zhese papers, my boss threatened to halve zhe finances for potato farmers. Vhy don't you ask Japan? He's been reading up on baby care, you know. I'm sure he'd be villing to help." Feliciano sighed. "But I want to-a shop with you!" Feliciano sniffled, and Germany froze.

He stood and stiffly patted North Italy's head. "I vish I could, but I can't right now. Ask me for help in two hours, and I promise zhat I'll take a break." Feli sniffled. "R-really?" "Ja. Now why don't you go shopping with Japan for a little vhile?" "Si, Germany!" Feliciano hugged the tall man, then rushed to find the other country.

" _Jaaapppaaaaannnnnn!_ We need to go shopping! Come help me!" Japan frantically scurried out of his room. "Is something wrong, Itary-san?" "Nope! I need help shopping for mi bambino, and Germany's busy. But he said that you'd help me! Please, Japan?!" Kiku's frown deepened slightly, "こいつ… Alright, Itary."

"Meravigliosa! Let's go!" He towed Japan after him, rambling excitedly about clothes and toys.

* * *

A few hours later, Germany heard the front door open. "Germany! Come see what we-a got!" Leaving his desk, Ludwig gaped at the mess of his sitting room. "I-Italy? I thought you vent out for a few zhings?!" Every surface of furniture was covered in some sort of baby item, while the floor was littered with boxes and bags.  
"Well, I need to be prepared! Besides, I-a told you I couldn't carry it all myself!" As he gestured to Japan, Germany's jaw nearly slammed open. "Vhat did you do to him?!"  
From his position on the couch, Japan's tired eyes barely opened to slits. "I tried, Germany-san. He was too fast. Excuse me." He struggled to stand, then wobbily made his way to his room.

A vein in Germany's head was pounding, he could feel it. He slowly counted to ten, then opened his eyes. "Feliciano." "Si, Ludwig?" "Where will we put all of this?" North Italy opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. "I, um... I'm not-a sure..."

The entire neighborhood could hear Germany's rant.

The whole neighborhood also witnessed a wailing Feliciano Vargas run out of the house and drive away.

* * *

 _AN: More details will come in the next chapter as to what exactly went down. For now, just know that poor, hormonal North Italy has just been subject to the exhausted wrath of Germany._

 _Really quickly, Japan's word is a sort of Japanese curse. It's a rude way of saying 'this guy' or something like that according to the website that I used._

 _Once again, flames will be given to England for his rituals and reviews are welcome! (Maybe I'll give the flames to Russia instead...)_


	8. What the Heck Happened to Feli?

_I can't tell you guys how much I appreciate your patience! It's been a long, eventful summer for me (let's just say that while I love children, I don't plan on having any for a while. At least five years' of a while.). Thank you for the kind reviews and follows/favorites! Because some people are enjoying this, I'll keep at it! Enjoy!_

 _Quick notice, Romano is in a LOT of this chapter. I counted, and he curses so much. (I had to once I noticed myself typing profanity without a second thought!) There's your warning!_

AN: Hetalia and its characters do not belong to me. They are the sole property of their blessed creator and the producers of the show.

Chapter Eight: What the Heck Happened to Feli?

Feli took his _Ferari_ when he left Germany's house. He may have been inconsolably sad, but he wanted to be sure that he took his favorite car. Call it a comfort object, in a way.

He did not know where he was driving to. He just knew that he needed a break from mean people that did not understand him. €4, 250* was _not_ too much to spend all at once – especially when said amount of expenditures was all for someone special.

North Italy laid a hand on his stomach as he continued to drive. Surely Ludwig did not mean for him to return everything? He didn't understand! " _Stupid Ludwig. He doesn't get it. It's not like he's ever been pregnant._ " Feli furiously wiped away tears as he sped through the countryside.

"You stupid bastard! I don't WANT a baby shower! _VAFFANCULO**!_ People stare at me enough as it is!"

Spain smiled fondly as he held out the baby shower invitations. "But _Lovi_ , I'm sure that everyone would love to come and see you! A lot of other nations have been asking about you and how the baby is doing!"

"I KNOW that! Which is why I don't want a shower! They'll just keep asking about how I'm doing and how the baby is doing and if I feel ok and if I want to sit down! I'm not a child, dammit!" Just as Romano was about to rant further, the doorbell rang. He cast Spain a furious glance as he turned towards the door. "You're lucky, tomato bastard."

"Feliciano? What the fuck are you doing all the way down here? You're supposed to be with Germany!" Feliciano blankly stared at his brother. "I-I needed to be back here at home. With you." Romano silently regarded the wadded tissues in his little brother's hand and noted his tearstained cheeks. _'What the fuck did that potato bastard do to my brother?!'_ "Get in here then, idiota." Feli leaned forward for a lung-crushing hug. "Grazi, Romano!" For once, his brother just let him release his little bit of happiness. "Alright already. Get inside before you knock us over."

"So you're telling me that you spent €4, 250 of the euros in our bank account in baby supplies. Then, you made Japan drag it all into Germany's house for you. Japan is basically dead. You also didn't know where to put everything, so you suggested putting it all in the bastard's office. Is that what you're telling me right now?" Feli glanced at the floor awkwardly as he swirled around his mug of hot chocolate. "Well, when you put it that way, you kinda make it sound like I wasn't thinking at all."

South Italy sighed through his nose. "You weren't. You were an idiot."

North Italy lowered his head. "So Germany's mad at me. And it's all my fault?"

Romano realized his mistake too late. ' _Cazzo.'_ "But, Feli-" "IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" Feliciano burst into tears. "FELI! It's-a going to be fine! Germany's probably on his way right now to apologize anyway!" "B-But it's all m- _my_ fault! And-and he was just protecting his office!" "But if I know the potato bastard, and unfortunately I do, he doesn't like to leave things unfinished. And he better probably feels bad for what he said. So don't worry. "

"But I-I made h-him MAD! I don't w-want him to be upse _-et_!" Romano stared blankly for a moment. ' _Mater boni consilii_ *** _, help me out down here._ ' He waited until his brother's crying had lessened before trying to console him again.

"Fratello. That potato bastard cares about you. If he didn't, he wouldn't be letting you live at his house like he is right now. He's probably under stress from his country or something (Romano neatly avoided the fact that Germany was probably stressed over Feliciano too, not in the mood to defuse another crying fit). Just give him time and he'll apologize for over-reacting.

"Although, that was a lot of money to spend. Was that all in one trip?" Feliciano sniffed and wiped his eyes, adopting a shy half-smile. "…yeah." "Mamma mia… Feli, I have to get stuff too, y'know." Feli's eyes adopted an excited light as he laughed. "Fratello, I bought half of it all for your bambino!"

Now it was Romano's turn to cry. "This better not be a joke, dammit." "Oh, Lovino, don't cry!"

When Germany arrived at South Italy's house with a bouquet of heliotropes, he was greeted by a bedraggled Spain. "¿Hola?" "Guten Nachmittag****, did I interrupt something?". Spain yawned. "It's siesta time, but it's ok. Do you want to come in?"

Entering, Ludwig noticed snores coming from the living area. "I assume the Italy's are asleep?" "Sí, they're on the couch. I would *another yawn* wait until they wake up." With that, the normally wide awake and festive nation drug himself back into his bedroom. Curiosity getting the best of him, Germany poked his head into the living room.

Feliciano and Romano were curled up together under a blanket, arms wrapped around each other. As if the blanket's tomato decorations weren't enough to express the brothers' love for the fruit, a half-eaten basket of them laid beside the couch. As Feliciano snored, he exhaled small 've's from time to time. Romano snored louder than his younger brother, but protectively clutched him when his ve's grew too loud to be peaceful. As Ludwig watched, North Italy sighed and put his head on his brother's chest. The elder brother then unconsciously laid his head on top of the younger's.

Germany smiled to himself and left the scene. Yes, he was sure that Feliciano would forgive him. Had it not been true, the brothers would not be as peaceful as they were. He settled himself in the kitchen to wait for the end of the house's slumber. Now was a good a time as ever to continue his research…

 _AN: *_ €4, 250: This equals about $5,000 US Dollars

** Vaffanculo: F*** you

*** _Mater boni consilii: Mother of Good Counsel, or a title for Blessed Virgin Mary. I hope that I translated that correctly and didn't offend anyone, I'm not Catholic!_

 _****guten nachmittag: good afternoon. Again, I hope that I translated that right!_

 _Please review, I appreciate the constructive feedback!_


End file.
